Destiny
Anakin frowned as he studied the control panel of the Invisible Hand. "All the escape pods have been launched."
Obi-Wan drew the obvious conclusion grimly. "Grievous." By launching all the escape pods, the droid general had effectively trapped the two Jedi and the chancellor aboard the crippled hulk of a ship. "Can you fly a cruiser like this?"
Anakin's hands were already a blur of activity, dancing across the controls. "You mean, do I know how to land what's left of this thing?"
"Well?" Obi-Wan trusted Anakin implicitly when it came to flying any sort of ground vehicle or spacecraft, but Grievous's ship was not remotely like anything Anakin had ever had the chance to pilot before. Still, with the Force to guide him, there was hope he would be able to bring them safely down to the planet's surface. Obi-Wan glanced back at the Chancellor, who looked nervous but was sensibly remaining silent and out of their way. The entire republic was depending on them to rescue the leader the Separatist forces had so boldly and shockingly kidnapped.
Even as focused on his task as he was, there was a trace of ironic humor in Anakin's voice. "Under the circumstances I'd say the ability to pilot this thing is irrelevant." There was nothing left to pilot. The Invisible Hand had been reduced by the battle to a wreck that was rapidly falling out of orbit, and Anakin knew that the possibility of anyone surviving the crash was so remote as to be laughable. Still, he had to try. "Strap yourselves in."
He bent to his work with fierce concentration. "Open all hatches. Extend all flaps and drag fins." This was not anything he'd ever learned in his lessons at the Jedi Temple, or read in a manual, but it seemed like a reasonable strategy. Basic aerodynamics dictated that the increased air resistance should slow them down…
Artoo whistled a warning, and the ship was rocked by violent turbulence. Anakin could feel the scream of rending metal in his bones. "We lost something."
"Not to worry," Obi-Wan reassured both Anakin and the Chancellor, who was grimly clutching the arms of his seat. "We are still flying half a ship."
How like Obi-Wan, to make light of a situation that was progressing quickly from disaster to catastrophe. Exasperating, and endearing. Anakin smiled even as he rolled his eyes, before the need to keep the ship level and stable again claimed all his attention.
The acceleration sensor climbed alarmingly. "Now we're really picking up speed."
Obi-Wan glanced at the altitude readout. "Eight plus sixty… We're in the atmosphere."
Anakin could feel the friction from the air molecules tearing past the hull of the ship. His skin was on fire, starting to burn away in the terrible heat. His hands played the controls like a musician at his instrument, but it would not be enough. An indicator beeped. "Grab that. Keep us level." Obi-Wan moved to comply.
Artoo blurted a stream of agitated beeps and whistles. "Steady," murmured Obi-Wan. The ship shuddered more and more violently as they plummeted.
Again the little droid protested, squeals rising in both pitch and volume. "Easy, Artoo." Anakin was only barely aware that he had spoken. He could glimpse the distinctive light patterns of the main Coruscant spaceport in the distance. They were going to fast, and too hot, but they were still level, and his concerted efforts were keeping the ship just stable enough…
"Five thousand," Obi-Wan reported. His voice was calm, but his words flooded Anakin with relief. "Fire ships on the left and right."
Confirming his words, the comm crackled. Scratchy with static, the fire ship's pilot voice came though. "We'll take you in."
He had done it. Anakin allowed himself for the first time to believe it. They would make it safely to the ground. They would be greeted as heroes for bringing Chancellor Palpatine home, and Padmé would be waiting for him…
His hand, reaching across the instrument panel, veered a fraction of a millimeter too far to one side, and brushed the wrong control. A warning light flashed.
"Oops," Anakin muttered.
"What was that?" The Chancellor's voice was sharp, and somewhat lower pitched that usual.
The ship lurched to one side. "Nothing, Chancellor. Just a small mistake. I'll have it fixed in a moment…"
The ship pitched and rolled alarmingly. "Foolish boy!" Palpatine shouted. He rose from his seat and advanced on Anakin, pushing him aside and fighting to reach the controls.
"No, Chancellor, I've got it, just give me a minute…"
At that instant, the hurtling fragment of the Invisible Hand skewed a fraction too far out of balance, lost stability, and spun into a violent tumble. It careened off course. Despite the fire ships' best efforts, it burst into flame, and plunged to the ground as an enormous fireball, instantly killing all three men on board.
And thus Anakin Skywalker, Chosen One of prophecy, fulfilled his destiny, destroyed the Sith, and restored balance to the Force.